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I've been meaning to write about this for a week or so- But life keeps getting in the way. May 5th according to Facebook [the Farmer's Almanac of social knowledge and pop culture spam] was Wear Purple Day; To show support for victims [aka survivors] of sexual assault. A showing of courage; a proclamation that these acts of sexual violence should not be allowed to happen.

Want, Need

May 9

An evil man once said "Don't tell me you need me- Tell me you want me." Or that's how this conversation began. On a lawn, in front of a funeral home, I debated the merits between want and need. The subtle inferences; the gendered perspectives. It made me think about the things I long for...

Just Lil Ol' Me

One of the first albums I owned was No Doubt's Tragic Kingdom. I remember my cousin insisting it was better than Backstreet Boys or the boy bands that lined my friend's shelves. My favorite song was Just A Girl'. The first line: Take this pink ribbon off my eyes spoke to my mini inner feminist. That's right- I don't need a pink blind fold. I'm strong! I'm independent! I won't hold your hand! & then I grew up. I realized that sometimes burning your bra, just leaves a gross smell and a pile of ashes.

When I Grow Up

When I was a kid, I'd play dress up. I'd pretend to be like the characters I'd read about, my pop culture role models on tv. I'd steal away into my Grandma's room and take her cardigans or just use the power of my ultra active imagination. How easy it all seemed...

Hippy Hippy Shake

I'm a call girl. I work for a conglomerate with a fairly tight grasp on a certain market. [Vague, I know.] I collect money [or I'm supposed to] for them and, in return, they reward me with two minimum wage pay cheques a month, 10 sick days [six paid] per year and two weeks of paid vacation. I've recently made it to my third year anniversary and feel like the consumerist beast has chewed away on another chunk of my soul. This must be how Prometheus felt.

Return to Sender Pt II

So, boys and girls, I did it. I send the email. [The less romantic cousin of the letter.] It was an edited version. I got my anger out Sunday and now I'm left with sadness. The most blanketing and smothering of emotions. Unlike anger which normally fizzles, sadness consumes. It's been a rough few days.

Despite Max's promises in Sunday's sparring match, the only BBMs I've received are prompted by me. One email. That's what I've gotten and it revealed no clues to how to fix out dilemma. I've heard if it's not broke, don't fix it... But what if it's broken and can't be fixed? The email revolved around Piano Man's life, [a boy she claimed annoyed her and she wanted nothing to do with but now apparently has feelings for] and another friend's pre-audition jitters but little of hers. She says [and has stated multiple times] she doesn't have a grasp on emotions. But she hows how they feel; has sympathy for them. I told her maybe it's just me she doesn't get. And maybe that hurts more than anything.

In other non-Max related news, I finally have a chance to floorwalk at work. So last week in April, I'll be watching the newbies and the rest of the fishbowl. I'm excited but scared. Maybe it's just the exhaustion speaking... Or the Strongbow. Yes, I'm drinking. Scooby doo [Birdie reborn] is on a blind date. She had to go out of Silent Hill to meet him and I, being the voice of caution, said I'd come with her. She dropped me off in a parking lot across the street [at my suggestion] and I walked over to Generic Chain Sports Bar.

I was going to order food but alcohol seemed like a much more appealing option. I'm a can and a half in and I forgot how good of a friend alcohol is. Bad thought! Bad! I promise this is my last one. Then again- A promise is just a lie in a making.

Signing off a lil tipsy, the Call Girl xx

April 13th

Return to Sender

Birdie told me that writing a letter helps... Because of a certain situation in my life, I tried it out. It didn't make me feel better. It didn't help me release any emotion. Instead, I'm in bed crying myself asleep [and not for the first time this week, month, year] and choking back my feelings. Apparently having friends is a good thing but I'm starting to see the merits of being a hermit.

On A Lighter Note...

Today is my little sister's 21 birthday. This was my birthday wish to her: Happy birthday to my favorite, little sister. I wish you health, wealth and happiness; I wish you clarity and wisdom. Hope you have an awesome day! Love you always xx

And I wish her all those things. Now that it's not morning and I have time to think, these are the other things I wish Bear [bc I know she'll be reading this]: The ability to love and be loved; to see herself as I see her brilliant loving and full of intelligence. For her to realize she is the amazing woman she is. It is people like Bear that give me hope for the future and help me keep faith in my fellow human beings. I have been so honored to watch her grow and flourish and privileged that she has allowed me into her life. Despite any thing that happened today, this is the most important thing I could possible say.

Signing off [technically again] blessed, The Call Girl xx

The Time Warp: A Four Day Retrospective

Oh time, you fickle mistress. We can never get enough of you, fleeting as you are. This weekend was paved in the gold of good intentions- After all, I had plans for keeping up my blog but alas, all those intentions lead me straight to Hell.

Wanted: Knight ; Shining Armor, White Steed

I am single and happily so. I like having accountability for my actions and only really having to answer to myself. [Which is hard enough I might add.] I've never truly forayed into a serious relationship and, although that occasionally weighs on me, I figure it'll happen when it happens. Or it won't. I guess it's not something that you really plan for or force.

Nothing Sacred [A Cautionary Tale]

Today I was going to write about identity. About striving to achieve one and a few other little theories... But I think I've settled on something else. A little piece of my day. They say where there's smoke, there's fire. And where there's fire, you might just get burned. Although with the greatest intentions did this all come about, it was my ass in the proverbial frying pan.

Sitting at my desk, I have a fairly optimal point of view. I'm close to the door, people have to pass me to get to most of the other points in the room, one supervisor sits within metres of me. My manager is also within a stone's throw. Normally this all adds up to an opportune access for hearing and seeing the daily ins and outs of of the call centre floor. After all, despite my customers thinking that the universe revolves around them, it doesn't. It revolves around gossip and water cooler chat.

Good for the Soul

Maybe today my soul needs something good for it... Despite wanting to lay in bed and indulge in terrible, teenaged dramas, watching the clock tick towards the witching hour, I'm going to give this blog a day two. 

A Very Good Place to Start

I've started several blogs. Most bloggers do I think before settling on one. Or maybe I'm wrong and everyone is just far less fickle than I. Don't ask me why I thought this was a good idea. It's probably not. As I told my adopted lil sister, Bear, my writing is like my underwear; I could show everyone but I choose not to. Only now am I that five year old in church who stands on a pew and raises her frilly dress. Consider this the proverbial showing of my literary underwear.